


Pinkie Promise

by warqueenfuriosa



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, Other, Post-Battle of Scarif, Reader Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warqueenfuriosa/pseuds/warqueenfuriosa
Summary: Rogue One gets an assignment for the first time after Scarif and Bodhi struggles with the fact that everyone he cares about will be in the line of fire at the same time - his team as well as his best friend, Reader. (Gender neutral)





	Pinkie Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for two prompts
> 
> 1\. A height difference kiss with Bodhi, requested by @memyselfandwifi on tumblr who has been sooo phenomenally patient with my incredibly slow ass!! 
> 
> 2\. Bodhi is sent into combat again and has a panic attack that he might lose Reader.
> 
> Hope you like it and feel free to drop by tumblr to say hi @warqueenfuriosa

“Wheels up in ten,” Cassian said.

That was five minutes ago and Bodhi was nowhere to be found. He had been at Cassian’s briefing along with the other teams and then suddenly just…vanished.

But I had a feeling I knew where he’d disappeared to.

Last night, he had disappeared too.

_“Bodhi?” I said when I spotted him on the deserted landing pad in the middle of the night._

_Sitting in the dark alone never meant good things for Bodhi. He hated the dark, hated the memories that crowded into his mind with the absence of light to chase away his demons. “What are you doing out here so late? And by yourself?”_

_He didn’t glance up as he poked at the ground with a stick. His shoulders curved inward and he looked…small. Which seemed impossible when he was nearly two heads taller than me. I was supposed to be the small one, not him._

_I settled on the ground beside him, wrapped my arms around my knees and waited. After a moment, I leaned into his shoulder and he rested his head on top of mine with a sigh._

_“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Bodhi finally said._

_“Of course I do. Why?”_

_He paused and whispered, “It’s been a year.”_

_Scarif. Jedha. A year since the war had started. He didn’t have to say it out loud. Though Bodhi had grown accustomed to using his prosthetic arm by now, it was his mind he couldn’t escape, replaying the explosions, those dying around him, until he could barely sleep, barely eat._

_“Cassian said he volunteered the team for active duty two hours ago,” Bodhi added._

_A chill of understanding mingled with dread swept through me._

_“That…doesn’t mean you’ll head out immediately though,” I said._

_“Could be tomorrow. Could be a week from now. But…” He gestured with his stick at the sky. “You’ve heard the reports. They’re not good. The Rebellion needs all the help it can get.”_

_That chill of dread changed, morphed into a desperate fire. As much as Bodhi didn’t want to be doing any missions in the field, I didn’t want him out there. It was too soon. Maybe there was a way out of this. Maybe he didn’t have to go._

_“Isn’t Cassian still favoring his leg?” I said. “How can he volunteer his team when he’s not a hundred percent yet? What about Chirrut and Jyn?”_

_“They’re itching to do something. Be useful again. They can’t stand sitting around here.”_

_“What about you?”_

_Bodhi shrugged. “Cassian said I could stay behind. If I wanted.”_

_He let out a long, slow breath and I curled my fingers around Bodhi’s arm._

_“Are you sure?” I whispered._

_He shook his head with a short, bitter laugh. “Not even a little. But I can’t let them go without me. It would feel wrong. I couldn’t…couldn’t live with myself if something happened.”_

_He turned to look at me for the first time since I had joined him. And the expression on his face made my heart squeeze, my lungs go tight._

_“Please tell me you don’t have any assignments,” he said. “At least for a little while.”_

_I hesitated. Assignments were given on such short notice most of the time that it was nearly impossible to predict when I would get shipped out. Bodhi knew that. But I didn’t need to remind him. And judging by the concern in his eyes, a reminder was the last thing he wanted._

_“No,” I said. “No assignments that I know of.”_

_He managed the smallest, wobbliest little smile as he hooked an arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple._

_“Thank the stars.”_

Except now I did have an assignment. Rogue One, along with several other teams, mine included, were to provide back up on a moon at the Outer Rim. The fighting had been bad for days but the Rebellion had held its own. Until this morning when Rebel forces started to crumble. Fast.

The news must have hit Bodhi harder than I thought for him to disappear five minutes before takeoff.

I found him far away from the chaos of the landing pad and docking bay, tucked into the droid maintenance room. Dozens of droids were on their charging ports, lights glowing faintly. Few people ever came in here, apart from fixing any faulty ports that might have burned out.

Bodhi sat in the corner, his head in his hands, his forehead resting on his knees. I could hear him muttering, trying to talk himself up to going out there again but it wasn’t working, judging by the tremble in his hands.

When the door swished shut behind me, Bodhi raised his head, startled, sucking in a breath.

“It’s just me,” I said, putting out a hand in reassurance.

His breathing was too shallow already and he wasn’t even in the field yet. I knelt beside him and he took my hand in a vise-like grip.

“You can do this, Bodhi,” I said. “Probably doesn’t feel that way but – “

“It’s not me,” he croaked and grimaced. He passed a hand over his face, shaking his head. “It’s not me I’m worried about. I was fine – “ He broke off, struggling to pull in a breath. “If it was only me, I could handle that. Scared, maybe, but I’d manage.”

“Now it’s your whole team,” I finished for him.

He swallowed hard and nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you. It’s everyone I care about in the line of fire at the same time. It feels just like Jedha and I can’t – can’t go through that – “

“Hey, no,” I cut in. “Bodhi. Look at me.”

He raised his head and met my gaze. I held out my little finger.

“Everything’s going to work out. Pinkie promise.”

It was a small, stupid little thing that had become habit between us. I had no right to make any promises like that, not when flesh and blood burned and blackened under blaster fire.

But Bodhi and I were both well aware how powerless we were to protect those we cared about in the face of this war and a pinkie promise seemed to diffuse the sheer impossibility of the odds we were up against every day. It suffocated the heartache of tragedy into something simpler, easier to cope with.

Bodhi linked his little finger around mine. “Pinkie promise.”

***

Less than twenty minutes later, blaster fire exploded around my head in a shower of livid red sparks that singed my shoulders. My blaster clicked on empty and I had no energy cells to replace it. And that ridiculous little pinkie promise seemed worlds away now.

We were losing the moon, inch by bloody inch. Three Rebel ships were lined up amid the trees in the distance, several feet to the west. But under heavy blaster fire as I was, with my team scattered or dead and no one to cover for me, I couldn’t reach those ships even if I made a run for it.

Crawling on my stomach, I made my way to one of my teammates, trying not to think about the stiffness of her dead body as I searched for something to defend myself with. Her rifle was wedged beneath her, half buried in the dirt, and I had to roll her over to get it free, my stomach surging into my throat with nausea.

But the energy cell was nearly empty already. It wasn’t enough to cover the whole distance to the ship. I’d be going barehanded for at least two or three yards and in a fire fight like this, the odds weren’t in my favor. I didn’t have a choice though. If I stayed where I was, those ships would leave without me and there wouldn’t be an option anymore. I’d be dead.

I took a deep breath, clutched the rifle to my chest, and took off, heading for the line of ships.

The first blaster bolt seared through my right thigh and I dropped to my knees on a gasp of pain. I clenched my teeth and struggled to stand again. I was too shaky to take proper aim but I could pull the trigger and that was something at least.

Another blaster bolt hit me in the side and I felt my ribs crack and cave in, felt the sharp stab in my lung and the burst of hot blood in my mouth. The force of the impact sent me hurtling to the ground, flat on my back, choking on dirt and ash with the stretch of sky above.

For a moment, I didn’t want to move. It would be easier to lay here and not fight anymore. The Rebellion seemed terribly, horribly, pitifully small in that single moment I dared to let my hope waver.

Then I anchored an elbow underneath me, pushed myself up, my body screaming in protest. I gripped fistfuls of the dirt and forced myself to stand.

The ship was there, two steps away. Bodhi’s ship. Safety.

One step. Rough, pockmarked metal, warmed by the sun, slid under my palm.

Another step, tinny with the weight of my boots on the ramp.

“Bodhi.”

Bodhi, fiddling with the comm panel, turned. He froze then rushed towards me just as I tipped forward, reaching for him. My knees struck the ship’s floor with a jolt of pain, dulled by distance and my fading consciousness.

Bodhi dropped next to me, muttering _no, stars no, please no,_ over and over. He hooked an arm around my waist as he smoothed my hair back from my face, brushed the dirt and blood away.

“I think,” I wheezed. “I think I broke my promise. I’m…so sorry.”

Bodhi’s face crumpled and he lifted me into his arms. I could feel his breath hitch, could feel his composure shatter as he buried his face in my neck, one hand cradling the back of my head.

Then he broke away, inhaling a shaky breath to steady himself again. He eased me to the floor, his hand locked around mine. He rubbed his wet cheek on his shoulder as he reached for the comm.

“Cassian, request for extraction,” he said. “Retreat. Fall back. Anything. _Please._ Over.”

A minute of silence. Followed by another. And another. No response.

Bodhi swore and tossed the radio back on the control panel. Without releasing his grip on my hand, he fumbled under the passenger seats for a med kit and dumped it beside me. He held up bacta patches and laser cauterizers, bone stabilizer compounds and hydrospray, growing increasingly more and more confused.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s not…gears and circuits and…I can’t fix – “

The comm crackled to life with Cassian’s voice and Bodhi scrambled to pick up the radio.

“We’re gaining ground,” Cassian said, the transmission jumpy and barely getting through. “If we pull out now – “

Bodhi cut him off but I could barely hear what was being said over the explosions and blaster fire outside, drowning out his voice apart from only a handful of words.

_Don’t know…stop bleeding…dying…_

Silence descended, terrible with its finality. Bodhi bowed his head, clutching the radio, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

“Please, please, please, Cassian, come on.”

“All teams move out,” Cassian said at last. “Fall back.”

Bodhi was so relieved, he was shaking as he tossed the radio on the control panel and clasped my hand in both of his.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said. “I’m taking you home.”

***

Bodhi sat outside the med bay for hours with no word on your condition. The only hope he could cling to was the fact that if you were dead, he would have heard something by now. The longer the silence, the better chance you had of pulling through.

He didn’t hear Cassian approach until Cassian sat beside him with a weary sigh. He tipped his head back against the wall, rubbing his aching leg.

“I don’t regret what I did,” Bodhi said, staring at his hands. Your blood was still too red beneath his fingernails, embedded in the lines of his palm. “Asking to leave.”

“Bodhi,” Cassian said, slowly, with that tone in his voice, like he was about to say something he knew Bodhi wouldn’t like but it was fact, it was realistic, it was logical, it was for the Rebellion. As if that made it bearable.

“Don’t say it,” Bodhi warned. “I know. We can’t stop the war for one person.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

Bodhi raised his head to look at Cassian. His whole body felt weighed down, as if he was sinking, drowning in memories of you, covered in dirt and blood, with smoke, fire, and blaster bolts creating a backdrop of chaos behind you.

“We lost too many people on that moon already anyway,” Cassian continued. “If we’d stayed, I’m not entirely sure we would have had a different outcome, apart from an even higher body count.”

Bodhi shifted in his seat, rubbed at his forehead. What was taking so damned long? “I’m tired of body counts,” he muttered.

Cassian nodded towards the med bay. “But there’s at least one person who won’t be part of that count today.”

Bodhi bowed his head and took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if – “

“Don’t. Don’t go there. Wait until you hear something first.”

Bodhi nodded as he scrubbed at his dirty palm with his metal thumb. Cassian placed a hand against Bodhi’s back and they waited together.

***

I woke in the med bay to find Bodhi asleep in a chair next to the foot of my bed. His head rested on his folded arms and one hand was curved over my ankle.

The moment I attempted to sit up, a blaze of fire licked through my side and I sank back against the pillows, biting the inside of my cheek to stay quiet.

But Bodhi felt that miniscule amount of movement anyway. He straightened, blinking rapidly, and his hand on my ankle tightened.

“You’re awake,” he breathed with relief.

“Did…we lose?” I managed despite my paper dry throat.

Bodhi shook his head as he drew his chair closer. “Don’t worry about that. Just…rest. You’re in pretty bad shape.”

“Bodhi,” I said, closing my eyes. “Please. Tell me.”

He took my hand, his thumb smoothing over my knuckles, fingers tracing up the inside of my wrist then down to my palm again.

“Yes,” he admitted. “The moon fell to the Empire.”

“And my team? Did…any of them make it out?”

Bodhi said nothing, pressed his lips into a thin line of regret.

The room suddenly became too small. I covered my eyes with one hand, fighting to keep my breathing under control. Crying would hurt too much, put too much stress on my injuries, but there was an exploding ache in the pit of my chest for my team and it was demanding to be felt, to be released, whether I wanted to or not. Why hadn’t I stayed to fight with them? Why hadn’t I tried to protect them instead of running away?

“No, no, don’t – don’t do that,” Bodhi said softly as he swept his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear.

“I left them behind, Bodhi. I ran away. What kind of person – “

“No,” he repeated more firmly this time, taking my face in his hands. “You did what you had to in order to stay alive. No one can blame you for that.”

“But they’re gone,” I whispered. “And it feels like my fault.”

He slid his arms under me, helping me to sit up. I buried my face in his shoulder, each sob sending a fresh stab of pain through my side. His hands smoothed down my back, his chin resting on top of my head. 

“I know,” he sighed.

***

It took months before I could leave the med bay, my leg in a brace, my ribs wrapped tight. And Bodhi picked up the irritating habit of watching me. When I would catch him staring, he would duck his head, the tips of his ears flushed red. He had asked only once if I wanted to talk about what happened on that moon and my resounding _no_ made him never ask again.

But since he kept studying me for signs of a nervous breakdown, I knew he wanted me to talk and it was making him nervous that I wasn’t saying anything about that day on that kriffing moon.

“Bodhi,” I finally said. “Stop it.”

He shrugged, his hands covered in grease. I wasn’t much use on base but I could help him with repairs to his ship. So despite my discomfort with Bodhi constantly eyeing me in case I lost it, I ended up working alongside him anyway, spending hours sitting there, not saying anything at all, the air heavy with the questions Bodhi was dying to ask but didn’t dare to.

“Stop what?” he said.

“You keep watching me and it’s annoying.”

He glanced away, scrubbed at a part with a rag. “That’s not…”

But he trailed off and didn’t finish.

I growled and tossed the pilex driver back into his toolbox. “Please do _not_ treat me with kid gloves like everyone else does around here now.”

“It’s only that - I mean – “ Bodhi blew out a breath of frustration. “I’m just worried. You’re my…friend.”

I shot a sideways look at him, confused at the slight hesitation before he said ‘friend’, as if it had suddenly become a strange word in his mouth overnight.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

Still, Bodhi watched me. I waved him off in frustration and stood, hobbling down the ship’s ramp.

“I’ve told you, Bodhi,” I called over my shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Wait, I – “

Bodhi swore and there was a clatter of tools behind me as he abandoned his work, wiping his hands on his overalls. With my bad leg, I could hardly go very far very fast and he caught up to me quickly. He cupped my elbow and turned me to face him.

“Wait,” he repeated, holding both hands palm out in a staying motion. “You’ve been there for me so many times that I’ve lost count. I just…I want you to know that I’m here. If you need me. Or not. That’s okay, too.”

My shoulders sagged as my indignation melted.

“I know you are,” I said.

He held out his hand and I slipped under his arm, tucked in against his side. There were plenty of other people who teased us about our height difference, how tall Bodhi was compared to me, but when he kissed the top of my head, I really didn’t care that I would always be the short one as long as he was around.

“And I know,” I mumbled into the fabric of his overalls, “that it wasn’t my fault. Might take a while to believe it though.”

Bodhi hooked his arm around my shoulders but before he could say anything, Jyn approached, bumping her pack against Bodhi as she passed him.

“Whenever you’re done with the hugging,” she said. “Gear up. We’re heading out.”

Bodhi’s arm fell away from me and he followed Jyn to the ship, poking his head inside.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said.

“I just told you. Besides, it’s under the table so to speak.”

“You mean, it’s not official.”

Jyn jabbed a finger in the direction of the docking bay. Cassian and K2-SO were making their way across the landing pad towards them.

“Official enough to get those two on the job.” She patted the headrest of the pilot’s seat. “So let’s go, pilot. Start warming her up.”

Bodhi turned to face me again, his hands spread in a helpless gesture. I crossed my arms, feeling small and useless and I didn’t like it. He stepped closer until I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, which I refused to do.

While I was grounded, there were a handful of assignments he’d been given and it brought on a fresh wave of panic every time I saw him leave. I’d lost my entire team. I couldn’t lose him, too.

“Hey,” Bodhi whispered, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You better be,” I said in a shaky voice, looking anywhere but at him.

“Pinkie promise.”

I glanced at his hand, little finger extended, waiting.

“You realize I broke my promise last time,” I said. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He inched a little closer, fingertips resting lightly on my shoulder as he leaned in and I forgot to breathe when he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Bodhi had kissed my cheek before, my forehead, my shoulder, the top of my head. It was always chaste and sweet and nothing but reassurance.

This was different, trembling with heat, as he lingered so close that his breath shivered over my neck.

“No promises then,” he said softly, lips brushing my cheek as he spoke.

 _Yes, promise me,_ I wanted to say. _Promise me you won’t get hurt. Promise me like you always do._

But the words stuck and I watched as Bodhi climbed into the ship, watched him takeoff.

I touched two fingers to the place where his lips had been a moment before.

_Oh._

***

Being grounded meant I had very little clearance to know what was going on. No matter how many times I asked, no one would tell me where Bodhi had gone or when he would return. All I could do was wait.

And I waited. I waited all day and well into the morning. It wasn’t until dawn was creeping across the sky that I saw Bodhi’s ship settle on the landing pad.

I hobbled to the edge of the docking bay and stopped when I spotted him talking to Jyn. No apparent injuries, but he looked exhausted, his steps heavy as he scrubbed a hand over his face. When he finally looked up and saw me standing at the entrance of the docking bay, he stopped. He started walking again, a little hesitantly, his gaze alternating between looking at me and looking away.

I wished I wasn’t so unsure of this new… _thing_ …that had developed, wished I could run to him without the risk of my leg giving out on me.

Instead, I steadily made my way towards him until I was right there, only one step apart. My hand came up, hovering just an inch from touching him. Then I lost my nerve and let my hand drop to my side again.

“Are you…okay?” I said quietly.

Bodhi nodded. “Just tired.”

Jyn glanced between Bodhi and me then rolled her eyes and walked off.

“See you tomorrow, Bo,” she called over her shoulder.

The activity in the docking bay was starting to pick up as the sun rose but I wasn’t paying any attention to it. Bodhi closed that one step of space between us and took my hand by the wrist lightly, turned my palm up and placed a kiss there, curling my fingers closed as if I could hold it like the gift that it was.

“You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” he said, his voice pitched low.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“But…” He faltered, swallowed. “I think…I…might like you another way, too.”

“Bodhi…”

He skimmed his thumb along my bottom lip and the words died in my throat. Slowly, his gaze tracked up to meet mine.

“If you don’t feel the same – “

“Yes,” I said. “I do. I mean – yes.”

Bodhi let out a strangled little laugh. “You do? I thought you wouldn’t and I didn’t want to ruin anything…”

I surged up on tiptoe, interrupting his rush of words, but my leg buckled and my mouth bumped his, nothing like the kiss I’d imagined. I put out a hand to catch myself against Bodhi’s chest, my other hand clamped to my burning ribs.

Bodhi gripped my elbow in concern.

“I’m all right,” I said.

“Maybe we shouldn’t – “

I wasn’t about to let him finish that sentence. I tugged him over to a supply crate and, using his shoulder to steady myself, climbed up on top. It put me at eye level with him and I draped my arms over his shoulders, triumphant.

“Problem solved,” I said.

Bodhi released a small, shaky breath, a little hesitant at first as his hands curved around my waist. I rested my forehead against his, cupped his face in my hands, fingers sliding through his hair to the back of his head. He closed his eyes with a small pleased sound. I bit my lip but couldn’t stop the smile that blossomed across my face at that wonderful, beautiful sound.

My fingers drifted to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms all the way around me until I was leaning against him as he supported my full weight and kept me from falling off the crate.

I kissed him the way I should have when he lingered before. I kissed him again for every time I’d watched him leave with only a pinkie promise, despite the fear that he might not come back. I kissed him over and over until he was smiling so big that his teeth scraped my lip and his laughter was in my mouth and I never wanted to let him go again.

“Promise me something?” I said, nosing at his jawline.

“I thought you didn’t like promises anymore.”

“Just this one.”

“Anything,” he replied without so much as a blink of hesitation.

I pulled back to look him in the eye. “Promise me that you’ll never leave without saying good-bye.”

I held up my little finger, waiting. Bodhi hooked his pinkie around mine and cupped my face in his hand.

“Pinkie promise,” he said.

“You have to keep it.”

“I will.”

“No take backs.”

Bodhi laughed, a low, gentle breath against the side of my neck as he brushed a kiss below my ear, trailing his lips over my cheek to the corner of my mouth. And when he kissed me again, soft and deep, our little fingers remained locked tight.


End file.
